


His Prince

by byesweetheart (ConstantComment)



Series: His Prince [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Bathing, Caretaking, Crown Prince Hinata, First Time, Loneliness, M/M, Master & Servant, Touch-Starved, being really rich and acting kingly is hard ok?, manservant Kageyama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 04:24:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12833241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConstantComment/pseuds/byesweetheart
Summary: Crown Prince Hinata was loved throughout the lands. Though short in stature, he carried enough charm for an eight-foot man. Diplomatic in one breath and impish in the next, he was known to weave his way through his courtly duties with a surprising grace and had even ended wars before they’d begun a time or two. Beautiful as the sun with a wiry body made for speed and limbs for clever footwork, he was blessed with an idyllic, youthful round face that he still wore in his twenties, deep brown, kind eyes like his mother the Queen, and floating, fae-like red hair from his father the Prince Consort.Whether or not the aforementioned, stunning and princely qualities were true, Crown Prince Hinata was also abrat.





	His Prince

**Author's Note:**

> **Day 21: Bathing**

Crown Prince Hinata was loved throughout the lands. Though short in stature, he carried enough charm for an eight-foot man. Diplomatic in one breath and impish in the next, he was known to weave his way through his courtly duties with a surprising grace and had even ended wars before they’d begun a time or two. Beautiful as the sun with a wiry body made for speed and limbs for clever footwork, he was blessed with an idyllic, youthful round face that he still wore in his twenties, deep brown, kind eyes like his mother the Queen and floating, fae-like red hair from his father the Prince Consort.

Whether or not the aforementioned, stunning and princely qualities were true, Crown Prince Hinata was also a _brat_.

No one asked for this particular opinion, because it was Tobio’s opinion. And Tobio’s opinion was worth less than a piece of silver. He had no House but his family’s in a tiny hamlet far away, no highborn education or money to his name, no court to preside over, and certainly no crown.

Tobio was only beloved Prince Hinata’s manservant.

Impish indeed, Hinata had Tobio nearly quitting on the spot on his first day for he refused to do a _thing_ that the castle steward had insisted needed doing. Other days, he would refuse to get out of bed, refuse to dress timely and properly or even wear any clothing at all. He would refuse to eat his frankly mouth-watering meals, refuse to even _bathe_ if he wasn’t ‘inspired’ to do so.

Tobio was only the one person who knew his prince best, for he was forever in his shadow – what little there was of it – trailing after him to make sure he looked at least… appropriate for all those diplomatic, charming moments he was known for. The entire kingdom should be thankful that Tobio hadn’t quit that first day when he was sixteen and Hinata was seventeen, even _brattier_ than he was now. Which was saying something.

All should shower him in praise for not stomping off whenever Hinata uttered some variation of those infuriating words, “I could have chosen anyone, you know! Actual _Lords_ of the highest Houses would kill to wash my feet or brush my hair. But I chose _you_.”

“Good thing I dodged that assassination this morning,” Tobio said once while trying to coax the prince into his breeches. “Wouldn’t have wanted to miss out on yanking a comb through that rat’s nest on your head again.”

That time, his prince had squawked, much like the birds on the crest of his Royal House. And then he’d pounced on Tobio. Naked.

At least Hinata always ended up breathless with laughter, and not purple in the face with anger, at Tobio’s insubordination, which had started years ago when he’d tried to get himself fired and had become routine once the prince had just seemed to… enjoy it.

Servants and members of the court alike often asked Tobio questions. Not about himself, of course – such as ‘How are you doing?’ or even ‘Fine day, today wouldn’t you agree?’ – but about Prince Hinata of the Golden Tongue and Fiery Hair. What was he like? Was he as charming as ever? What was his favorite color, his favorite sport? Did he like poetry? Did he enjoy games? What did he like to do? Did he have a lover? How many lovers had he _had?_

Tobio knew the answers to some of these questions, even if he couldn’t dignify them with an answer. Even if he _wouldn’t_ , shooing away whoever was shameless enough to ask such things about the future King.

Prince Hinata was _not_ charming as ever, although this was another opinion that no one cared to hear. As mentioned, he was a brat, he was obstinate and at rare times mean. He could not sit still and stayed up too late. He hated the morning, even though he liked breakfast most of all his daily meals. He slept on his stomach with one leg crooked up like a tree frog. He slept _naked_ in the summers. His favorite color drifted as much as his attention. He loved sword-fighting, and all knew he was quite clever with a blade, but despaired quietly when other knights knocked him down because of his size. He was even more clever with throwing knives, or a bow and arrow, but could not often indulge in long hunting trips. He didn’t care for poetry, but had many verses memorized to entertain Lords and Ladies and visiting diplomats from far off places.

He liked music, loved it so deeply sometimes it moved him to tears when he thought Tobio wasn’t looking. He played the lute on quiet days, when he was too tired to be stubborn and wicked. On those days, Tobio lingered over his chores, listening to the lovely, plucked tones and strange melodies despite himself.

He’d had no lovers that Tobio could remember, no one that Tobio had seen sneaking from his shadowy bed in the early morning while Tobio prepared his chambers for the day. Not in the five years he had pulled his prince – bodily – from sleep so he could do princely things had Tobio seen anyone in his rooms that should not have been seen.

What was he like, others asked?

When Tobio allowed himself to dwell on it, he thought Prince Hinata might be lonely.

Bratty. But, lonely in a way that pressed on Tobio’s sternum and made him frown.

It was one of those times, tonight.

Late autumn blanketed the walled city in mist and cold, and Hinata had risen reluctantly as usual, clinging to the furs and blankets in his bed when Tobio had reached under the covers and tugged on his ankle with nearly freezing fingers. He’d groaned, then gasped and giggled under Tobio’s hands, but found purchase on his bedpost and could not be removed for the time being.

Tobio had moved to the hearth near Hinata’s dining table and lit the first fire of the season, puttering about and receiving breakfast from the knock at the door – warm bread and the finest cheeses, sweet dried fruits and hot water for tea – before returning to his side and yanking at him once again.

“Oh!” the Prince had exclaimed, nearly landing on his arse on the cold floor before Tobio caught him up and pulled him from his maelstrom of blankets, placing his furred robe over his gauzy nightshirt before leaving and returning with his tights and slippers, sufficient for now – for a day with only a few meetings with the Queen and surveying the stores for the upcoming winter months. These things would not come until mid-morning, anyhow.

His prince was restless again, almost giddy under Tobio’s perfunctory hands as he slid his feet into the deep blue tights and rolled them up his goose-bumpy legs under his shift, over his thighs and hips and waist.

“My – my fair prince, good morning,” Prince Hinata had said in a foolishly low voice as he leaned on Tobio’s shoulder. Tobio had presumed he was attempting to mock him for not saying so much as hello before dragging him from bed, and he had presumed right. “How was your slumber? Did you have pleasant dreams?”

Tobio had sighed. “Well, did you?” he had asked as he leveled a look at his prince, still kneeling before him.

Looking down, hair a fiery mess from his night of sleep, Hinata had blushed and shoved his toes into his velvet slippers. “Yes, thank you, Tobio,” he had breezed out, cheeks pink.

He would often tell Tobio his dreams if he knew it would annoy him to hear of them, chattering about dragons and maidens in towers and enchanted forests and haunted caves, but today he he had been silent.

After his duties were done, the prince retired to his rooms instead of playing a game of tennis or observing the training of the new crop of the royal guard. He read or played the lute or drew idly in the corners of scrolls at his table as Tobio came in and out, bringing things up from storage and replacing sheets and tending the fire so it roared all day and filled the room with a pleasantly warm scent. In the afternoon, when Tobio came back to stock the wardrobe with the prince’s winter clothes, Hinata was leaning and looking out the window at the grey sky, nearly still as a painting save for his finger tracing on the warped edge of a window pane.

“I think I’ll go for a ride,” he said, when Tobio added more wood to the fire, watching him out of the corner of his eye.

“It looks like rain,” Tobio replied.

Prince Hinata ignored him, and walked from his rooms with an absent, “I’ll be back for a late supper.”

Tobio had readied a bath for him upon his return. For it _did_ rain, and the prince would surely be soaked from head to toe, if not covered in mud as well. The day was shorter, and so Hinata appeared as Tobio was lighting the sconces and candles about his bedchambers to ward off the dark.

Tobio did not notice him at first, until he closed the oak door with a slow creak behind him.

“H – Prince Hinata,” Tobio said, and his prince just shivered, dripping onto the stone floor.

He grabbed one of the winter robes airing out by the fire and rushed to him, grumbling as he pulled his boots off and started unlacing his ruined tunic and shoved his clothes off of him as quick as he could.

“C-can’t even m-manage a welcom-me back, I s-suppose,” the prince said, and Tobio grunted his displeasure.

“I told you it would rain,” Tobio insisted, yanking his breeches down and manhandling him until he was naked under the robe. “You’re going to catch your death doing stupid things like that.”

“Will n-not,” was his Prince’s soft protest.

“And they’ll blame _me_ ,” Tobio continued. “They’ll string me up for letting you make terrible decisions.” Thankfully the water was still hot and steaming in the big tub next to the fire, so Tobio steered the prince closer and helped him in.

“Won’t let them,” Hinata said, and then hissed as his cold toes slipped into the scented water.

Tobio gritted his teeth and rubbed at Hinata’s legs to warm them a little before the prince could fully submerge himself, and clucked in quiet fury as another wave of shivers hit him even as he was enveloped in heat up to his neck.

“Stupid,” Tobio murmured, brushing the cold-wet hair from Hinata’s eyes as his eyes fluttered closed.

Thankfully, Hinata warmed quickly and soon bobbed his head beneath the water to rinse the brambles from his hair, no longer so cold. Tobio gathered the soap and soft cloths and sponges to bathe him, but not before setting another log in the hearth and letting the fire roar higher, lighting his prince in orange and warming his back as he knelt beside the tub and lathered up a bar of rose petal soap, running his sudsy hands through Hinata’s hair once he came up for air.

Hinata hummed under Tobio’s fingers. And, thankfully, the fire crackled loudly, muffling the noise that escaped from Tobio’s parted lips.

Tobio tried to work silently as he took goblets full of the warm water and ran it over the prince’s scalp until it was clear of shampoo, and then moved again to his side and dipped a sponge into the water, using perfumed soaps and oils of all sorts to lather and run along the prince’s arms down to his small fingers, then to the back of his neck and his shoulders down his spine, the prince leaning forward and breathing deeply as Tobio’s strokes slowed, perhaps under the same spell that had affected his prince all day, and he drew the sponge over his wet skin softly. Next, he cradled Hinata’s head so he could again lean back against the tub again, and moved to his collarbones, taking more scented soaps from beside him and leaving the surface of the water bubbly as he moved his hands under it.

Prince Hinata watched him with eyes glinting in the glow from the fire as Tobio reached further and brushed the sponge under his arms and then across his chest in a slow sweep.

It was not the first time that his prince had become aroused under his hands, face flushing and mouth parting and rosy nipples hardening and prick thickening and standing between his thighs as Tobio combed fingers through his soapy hair or scrubbed his sides with soft warm towels or rubbed salves and oils into his legs after days-long campaigns atop his horse. But, it was the first time Tobio had been caught noticing.

Tobio paused as the water’s surface was again disturbed by Hinata’s knees, rising up toward his chest and appearing as shiny-pale islands in the bathwater. Tobio could barely see the shape of his hard cock against his stomach, but it was definitely there, and Tobio bit his lip before he could stop himself, flicked his eyes up as his heart thudded in his chest.

Prince Hinata was staring at him, eyes no longer heavy with sleep but wide and… afraid.

“I’ll wash myself!” he declared after a long moment, but Tobio just rolled his eyes, trying to return things to _normal_.

“Let me do my job,” he huffed.

“I can use a sponge, Tobio. It’s not like it’s difficult – ”

“You can hardly lace your breeches. Let me do it.”

Hinata grabbed at his hand holding the sponge with slippery fingers, tugged it once softly, then harder when Tobio would not yield.

As with many things when it came to the two of them, they were nearly wrestling for it within moments, the prince yelling, red-faced, as his manservant grunted out more protests. Water splashed over the sides and doused Tobio’s legs and chest, sticking his own tunic to his chest and making him rage. He tried to stand, still holding fast to the sponge, when he stepped on a bar of soap.

He went tumbling face-first into the royal bath.

The silence was deafening thereafter. Only the sounds of the firewood breaking and the rain and wind picking up outside could be heard, even though Prince Hinata’s wide eyes seemed louder than anything.

“I – I’m sorry, my prince – ” Tobio stuttered, shame flooding his stomach as he tried to pull himself out of the bath. His soapy fingers slipped on the rim of the tub, however, and he splashed again on top of Hinata, their noses bumping as he slipped between his open thighs, flush to him from hips to chest and pressing his prince’s hardness between their stomachs.

He froze, eyes shut tight. He’d be strung up for sure, now. Hinata would cast him from his rooms, from the castle, from the _kingdom_ for his disobedience and his nerve. And Tobio would be alone, would leave his prince alone, and it would be terrible.

Lips pressed softly to his as he waited for the final, cold words. He gasped at the tickling, shaky feeling.

“Don’t be,” the prince whispered weakly, fingers shaking as he pressed them to his jaw and mouthed clumsily at Tobio. “Don’t be sorry. Tobio – ”

Tobio made a soft noise as he mirrored the entrancing movements of the prince’s mouth, abandoning the blasted sponge so he could hold his small hand in place on his cheek.

His prince wailed just as softly. Tobio opened his eyes to catch Hinata’s and found they were glistening when he leaned away. Coppery pools with that lonely look.

“Prince – ”

“Could you call me Shouyou?” he interrupted, hushed. The plea made something in Tobio ache.

Tobio leaned back in and captured his lips, feeling out the plushness of them, darting out his tongue to taste them before breaking away and trying, “Shouyou,” with his voice low.

His – his prince’s – hell – _Shouyou’s_ breath hitched at the tremble of Tobio’s soft tones, and he leaned up to pepper kisses over Tobio’s cheeks before kissing him firmly on the mouth again, letting out a harsh breath from his nose. He nearly mewled at every small, exploratory touch of Tobio’s fingers like he’d been holding them in all these years. Even a touch to his ear, a trace across his collarbone, a possessive hand on his ribs coaxed aching music from his throat like plucking melancholy notes from his lute, and Tobio gasped with it. He found, once he could touch like he was, that he could not bring himself to stop.

“Tobio,” the prince said as Tobio bit lightly at his neck and tried not to rut into him even as Shouyou’s prick grew harder between them. “Tobio, this is what I dream of,” he admitted, hushed.

Tobio moaned at that. Moaned at the thought of those mornings he pulled a sweat-warm prince from under his blankets, secretly reveled in the way he would lean into him like he was starved for it, the both of them ignoring – as always – the heat between the prince’s legs as Tobio readied him for the day. His stomach twisted at the thought of those time when Tobio would change the linens and pretend the evidence of his dreams wasn’t spattered in damp spots across them, smelling of his sex.

Tobio rolled his hips into Shouyou’s stomach, and Shouyou’s legs squeezed around Tobio’s waist under the hot water as he rubbed himself against him like a purring cat.

“Shouyou – I,” he began, but found that the exquisite feeling of their cocks squeezed together under the water was too engrossing.

Shouyou wrapped an arm around Tobio’s neck and tongued into his mouth as he snaked his other hand down between them. His fingers slipped under Tobio’s breeches and teased only briefly at the head of his erection before he tugged the fabric down and tried clumsily to wrap them both in the tight hold of his fist.

“I dream of you,” Shouyou continued on a shivery whine, as Tobio moaned loudly against his jaw. “You. Taking care of me, talking to me like we’re… we’re equals, _friends_.”

Tobio kissed him, heart battering in his chest.

Shouyou could not seem to remember to keep stroking them as his pleasure built, so Tobio moved his fingers overtop Shouyou’s under the water, guided him through the twisting, wringing thrusts until they splashed bathwater all over the floor, little tidal waves spilling over the edge from their writhing bodies.

“Shouyou,” Tobio rumbled, again and again. “Shouyou”

Shouyou cried out and pulled him closer, if it was at all possible, and spoke against his mouth, “You’re the only one who talks to me like that, the only one who _touches_ me every day – ”

Chest filling with possessive heat, Tobio jerked them faster until Shouyou’s voice caught on a high whine. Little guttural noises burst from his open mouth as he spilled over Tobio’s fingers, his leaking cock, and fell limp under the water.

Tobio followed him, dutifully.

Ages later, Tobio nuzzled into his prince’s jaw and moved away, despairing at the hurt noise Shouyou made at the loss of contact before he pulled them out of the cooling water and brought the prince’s soft towels to him, kneeling and moving the cloths slowly over his skin with care until he was nearly dry but for his hair. He ignored his dripping clothes.

“Tobio, let me,” Shouyou whispered, and Tobio rose to obey. He watched Shouyou as he peeled his tunic and breeches off of him and hung them, as he’d seen Tobio do many a time, by the fire. Now, they were both naked, and Tobio resisted hiding himself in front of his prince, and then parted his lips in awe when he took fresh warm towels and rubbed warmth into his limbs with the same care he’d given his prince for years.

They dried each other’s hair a little, and then stood in the dark room, naked and staring.

“If you wanted…” Shouyou began quietly after a long moment, “I would love – I would not mind if you shared my bed tonight.”

Tobio glanced at the tub and the mess they’d made. At the supper that sat ignored and likely congealing from the cool air on the prince's table. 

“Tomorrow. I’ll help you, when your clothes are dry,” Shouyou continued, and Tobio could hear the plea in his voice.

Tobio nodded, and when Shouyou smiled his face glowed, transfiguring him completely.

He followed in Shouyou’s shadow – as he always did – to the bed and gasped at the blessedly soft linens and furs as they curled under them. He sighed when he pulled his prince into his arms and basked in the soft-shivery, wanting noises Shouyou made as he held him. He laughed roughly when Shouyou demanded more kisses with irresistible, dark eyes.

Crown Prince Hinata was a brat – spoiled, _unruly_ for a future ruler.

But, as Tobio pressed him into his downy pillows and kissed him deeply, he knew he could not be more devoted to him, knew he adored him more than all the rest.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoyed! This one is one of my faves from Kinktober. :3
> 
> Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://byesweetheart.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/byesweetheart_)!


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